


Misadventures in Mathematics

by tsunbathing (bluebelle)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Developing Relationship, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:09:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebelle/pseuds/tsunbathing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lars is just trying to get through his senior year unscathed. To do that, he has to deal with his grades and his questionable reputation. He also has to deal with two friends named Matthew, eight classes he doesn't really want to be in, and one teacher with a very cute butt. It's going to be a long year.</p><p>(student Ned and teacher Po, there will be additional characters and possibly additional relationships, but I'll add them in as they come up)</p><p>(note about the warning - Lars is only slightly underage, but there's a five-year age gap between him and Feliks)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TikTak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TikTak/gifts).



The first day was Lars' least favorite day of school. It was probably everyone's least favorite day, he thought, if they had any sense. There were always those stupid "get to know you" games that didn't actually tell you anything about anyone, and any assignments were forgotten twenty minutes later by all but the biggest of kiss-ups. Still, he made a point of going on the first day. It was usually to scope out his teachers, to see which classes might be interesting and which ones he could sleep through or skip. He had always known just how much class he could miss to keep his grades up to an acceptable average, and his parents never knew the difference.

This year, though, he intended to try harder. There was college to think about. That, and he was running out of things to do when he skipped. So this year, _this year_ , he was going to do his best to go to every class. He just hadn't told anyone yet. Better to make it a pleasant surprise than get his parents' hopes up for nothing.

His first class was Precalculus; an unfortunate turn of events. There were only a few students already in their seats, mostly the overachievers and early risers. One of them was Mathias, and Lars took the desk next to his. He had known Mathias for as long as he could remember. They had latched onto each other instinctively as kids, as boys of the same age tended to do. At some point it had become less of a friendship based on convenience and more of one based on actual affection and common interest. Mathias looked over at him.

"Showing up bright and early, huh?" he asked. Lars raised an eyebrow to avoid speaking. He was a master at avoiding speaking when he didn't want to, which was frequently. Mathias didn't seem to mind. "I've heard the teacher's right out of college. Like, really young. And he has some unpronounceable name."

Lars didn't think any of that sounded promising. The younger teachers had a tendency to try to be friends with their students. They never had anything real in common, other than being stuck in the same room for an hour or two and talking about whatever assignment was due that day. The teachers who were coaches weren't always as bad, but that was because they saw their students outside of class. You could actually get to know a person that way.

He closed his eyes. There wasn't much to do before class, anyway, and he was almost a full fifteen minutes too early. He wasn't aware he was asleep until the bell rang and he nearly jolted out of his seat.

Another glance around told Lars that Matthew was sitting behind him. He always did when they had a morning class together, in case he fell asleep. Lars was tall enough to hide him almost completely. He had discovered Lars was good for this back in freshman year, when they had met, and for some reason it had sparked a comeraderie between them. As Mattie put it, if you couldn't trust the guy who was acting as a human shield between you and detention, who could you trust?

The announcements seemed to drone on forever without really saying anything, and Lars found his eyes drawn to the empty desk in the center of the room. He thought there would be someone sitting there by now. If this new teacher hadn't shown up in ten minutes, he was out of there.

He had barely finished that thought when the door burst open. Lars had a hard time believing he could be a teacher, except that the student desks were all full. The man was short and slim, blond hair brushing his shoulders in a stangely fashionable style. All of him was strangely fashionable, actually, and for a moment Lars wondered if he had wandered into a reality tv show that replaced ordinary teachers with models. There was a tiny wrinkle of worry between his eyebrows, but as Lars watched, his face smoothed into a confident expression. Every inch of his posture as he stood next to his desk said 'I meant to do that.' Lars almost laughed.

The man introduced himself as Mr. Łukasiewicz. He wrote it on the board and Lars stared at the line through the L. That hadn't been on his class schedule. Mr. Łukasiewicz went on to say that if they couldn't remember his name, it was fine to call him Mr. L or Feliks. Lars groaned internally. So he was going to be one of _those_ teachers.

Mr. Łukasiewicz went on to explain the classroom procedures, but Lars tuned it out. Almost every class was the same in that regard, and he had heard the same lecture at least thirty times. Instead he found himself watching Mr. Łukasiewicz as he talked.

He didn't seem very fond of standing still. He bounced on the balls of his feet slightly as he talked, as if he was about to run off. His hands waved around slightly, too, but not enough that it seemed intentional. The effect was surprisingly charming, and Lars started paying attention to what he was saying.

"The rule is that you can't have gum unless I get a piece, too." His lips curled up in a little smirk as he said it. "Same goes for food. Just make sure you bribe me _first_." That brought giggles out of a few people. Most of the class seemed to be listening to his introduction, for once. "You can sit next to whoever you want, as long as you don't talk when I'm talking. Also, I know it's early. I don't want to be awake any more than you do. But if you fall asleep I'm going to have to point it out to everyone, and then give detentions if it happens again, got it?" He glanced Lars' way. "That includes you, Matthew Williams!" Behind Lars, Mattie jerked upright again, his ears red.

It went on like that a while with the rules. Mr. Łukasiewicz seemed pretty relaxed for a teacher, except about sleeping and turning in homework. ("I'm going to do everything in my power to get you through this class, but you have to meet me halfway.") He let them know when he would be in his classroom in case they wanted to stop in and ask a question.

The syllabus was quicker to go through than the rules, and when the students all had their books, Mr. Łukasiewicz decided to let them ask him questions about himself, just until the bell rang. There were ten minutes of class left, and Lars was surprised the teacher would allow that. His classmates were nosy.

Sure enough, one of the first questions was "do you have a girlfriend?" When the answer was no, someone else asked "do you have a boyfriend?" The answer to that was also no, but there was something hesitant about the way Mr. Łukasiewicz said it. Lars raised his eyebrows.

His classmates went on to establish the basics about their teacher. Age (22), favorite food ("Don't make me choose! Okay, cake. No, fries! No wait, what about doughnuts?"), where he had gone to college (the local university), and where he was born (a small town nearby) were all fair game. Mr. Łukasiewicz answered them all without embarrassment.

Lars almost wished someone would ask why he had decided to teach math. He certainly wasn't going to ask, but it would be interesting to hear what answer Mr. Łukasiewicz gave. Instead he leaned back in his chair slightly and waited for the bell. He wasn't really the asking-questions-in-class type. He only asked questions when it was unavoidable because no one else had done it first. This time it wasn't unavoidable, and the question seemed kind of personal.

When the bell finally did ring, he ended up at the teacher's desk without having made a conscious decision to go there. If anyone asked, he would not be able to explain his presence there. Mr. Łukasiewicz glanced up after a moment and they looked at each other, each expecting the other to speak first. Mr. Łukasiewicz's eyes were slightly too large for his face and unnervingly green.

"That was good. Uh. Good class," he blurted, and immediately felt like smacking his head into the nearest flat surface. He should excuse himself and go to class before it got worse.

Mr. Łukasiewicz smiled at him, though, and he relaxed just a little. "Not bad for a first day?" his teacher asked, and he felt his lips quirking into something that might resemble a smile. Mr. Łukasiewicz chuckled. "First days are bad for everyone, but you have to start somewhere."

He excused himself shortly afterward to go to class. The bells were getting shorter every year, he could have sworn. He shouldn't have worried. The younger students in the hall hurried to the side when they saw him coming. For some reason (okay, maybe it was the smoking and skipping class), most of the school had decided he was the resident bad boy. His friends thought this was hilarious, but for him the novelty had worn off. His reputation didn't do him any favors, especially with teachers and the administration. He hurried to his next class. It was decidedly less interesting than the previous one.

For some reason Mr. Łukasiewicz's words stuck with him that day. They stuck with him through teachers mispronouncing his name. They stuck with him through stupid introduction games, and he focused on them like a mantra when people gave him a little too much space in the halls. He was going to do well this year. He had to start somewhere. He just hoped he was going to end up where he wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

  
The rest of the week passed slowly. Lars wasn't used to the school routine yet, but he was trying. Doing all his homework was something he never thought he'd get used to, but he had to try. There was just so much, and not all of it seemed to have a purpose. He struggled through it anyway, reminding himself that the work would pay off later.  
  
Mr. Łukasiewicz's class became the highlight of his morning, but then that wasn't a very difficult achievement. Still, Mr. Łukasiewicz (and he had to keep thinking of him that way, because calling him Feliks sounded disrespectful) was charming in a way teachers never were.  
  
The confidence of the first day had been a mask, Lars soon discovered. On the second day Mr. Łukasiewicz was so nervous that he almost looked like he was vibrating. Lars attempted a smile in encouragement, but it came out as more of a grimace. Mr. Łukasiewicz must have understood his meaning, anyway, because he returned the expression with a timid smile of his own. Then he began the lesson, and he was so enthusiastic about it it was as if he had never been nervous at all. Lars had really smiled then, and it must have been a strange expression on him because Mathias shot him a look.  
  
The material was actually interesting to him for once. He tried to pretend that it was because he had matured over the summer and understood it better, but he knew it was Mr. Łucasiewicz. The teacher bopped around the classroom with an infectious amount of energy. By the end of class the entire whiteboard was covered in formulas and little doodles, and Lars had filled three whole pages in his notebook. The amount stunned even him, and he lingered a moment staring at it while everyone else rushed out.  
  
His next class was with Mathias, and they walked together. "Do you have a thing for Mr. L?" his friend asked, and his raised eyebrow and smirk indicated just what kind of thing he meant.  
  
For once he wished his friend wasn't so peppy in the morning. "No," was his immediate response, because he could never think of a teacher that way. It was teasing, of course. Mads was always teasing him. Surely he didn't mean anything by it. But something about the thought made him nervous.  
  
"Really? Because I've never seen you actually pay attention in class. And you _smiled_ at him."  
  
That was obviously a joke, and Lars elbowed his friend in the ribs. "Not my type," he said drily, and Mathias' cackle of laughter was the end of that.  
___  
  
Soccer tryouts started the second week of school. It was one of those things Lars had to do but didn't want to. He had been on the team for three years, and trying out a fourth time seemed pointless. A lot of the things the coach did seemed pointless, though, so he showed up anyway on Wednesday afternoon.  
  
Mr. Fernández was already there, chatting with a few of the freshman hopefuls. They probably wouldn't make it onto the varsity team, Lars knew. Last year's team was already great, and almost no one in the lineup had graduated. The coach insisted on giving everyone a chance. It would have been admirable if Lars didn't find it annoying.  
  
Though he would never admit it to anyone, part of his motivation to play so well was to prove something to his coach. It wasn't desire for praise. Mr. Fernández was nice to everyone, but his attitude irked Lars for some reason. His motivational speeches and smiles seemed almost condescending sometimes, especially when he talked to Lars. When he mentioned it to Mathias, his friend seemed not to have noticed.  
  
He played at his best that day. It wasn't as if he needed to; as he expected, most of the freshman weren't anywhere near his level. But the spark of surprise in his coach's eyes gave him a smug satisfaction.  
  
He found himself humming a little on the way back to the locker rooms when Mathias caught up to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "The team's gonna be great this year, right?" He was grinning, but the glint in his eye was more fierce than friendly. Mathias got that way about sports. It was another thing they shared.  
  
Lars made some kind of noise in agreement and his friend continued, unconcerned. "We're gonna kick some ass at state."  
  
Mathias had missed the final game of the previous season. He had probably been the most excited out of anyone on the team (aside from Lars, but Lars hadn't actually expressed his excitement to anyone), but a sudden injury had taken him out of the game. They had won, of course, but Mathias still hadn't gotten over it. "...with you leading us there! But you'll let me have the game-winning shot, of course" he was saying.  
  
"In your dreams," Lars said, but it was mostly to wipe the grin off his friend's face. They both knew it was just talk.  The two of them were almost unstoppable on the field after so many years of playing together. Lars gave Mathias a playful shove and went to change, a bit of a smile tugging at his own mouth.  
___  
  
Mr. Łukasiewicz was the last person he expected to find in the parking lot, and yet there he was when Lars went out after practice. He was rummaging around in his car for something, and one of his knees was on the driver's seat. The position made his butt stick out a little, and Lars found himself blushing and looking away.  
  
When his teacher straightened, he was holding a CD. He caught Lars' eye and smiled, and then with no more warning he came over to say hello. Lars froze in the middle of the parking lot, suddenly very conscious that he had just come from practice. He hoped he smelled okay.  
  
The CD was a compilation of classical music, he saw when his teacher was close enough. Mr. Łukasiewicz caught him looking at it and smiled, waving the case a little. "Good music for lesson planning," he explained. "So, soccer tryouts?" He was grinning as he said that.  
  
Lars shouldn't have been surprised. The flyers were everywhere, after all, and it was common knowledge who was on the team. But it was exciting, somehow. He wondered if Mr. Łukasiewicz knew anything else about him.  
  
"Tryouts, actually," he heard himself say. He should let Mr. Łukasiewicz get back to his work. Surely he was only being polite; surely he wasn't actually interested in what Lars had been doing. But he had been the one to approach, hadn't he? Lars' pulse picked up and he didn't dare to wonder why. "We do them every year, even if the old team is still around." That sounded more annoyed than he had intended, and he felt his ears going pink. He hadn't intended to sound disrespectful.  
  
Mr. Łukasiewicz didn't seem bothered. Instead he smiled reassuringly. "I hear you were team captain last year, right? You'll do great again this year, I'm sure." He did sound sure, and Lars felt a swell of pride.  
  
"Thanks," he said, and then there was a silence. Lars thought he should say something else, but nothing came to mind. "So, lesson plans. Good luck. Or, uh. Have fun?" The words sounded strange, even to him, but Mr. Łukasiewicz laughed.  
  
"That's what this is for." He nodded toward the CD again and waved as he headed back into the building. Lars let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  
  
Mathias was staring at him from across the parking lot, and even from there he could see his friend's eyebrows were raised. He went over there reluctantly. Mathias was his ride home, but at that point he would have preferred to walk.  
  
"You _do_ have a thing for Mr. L." Mathias was teasing again, but Lars felt a tug of guilt. He was beginning to think his friend was right.


End file.
